


Alone in the Storm

by SiriuslyQueer



Series: Coast-to-Coast inspired fics (character credit Lumosinlove) [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Getting to Know Each Other, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Sweater weather, coast to coast spinoff fic, hockey fic, lumosinlove, sweater weather spinoff fic, teammates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-20
Updated: 2020-06-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:54:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24788059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SiriuslyQueer/pseuds/SiriuslyQueer
Summary: After a neat 4-1 win in Philly, the Lions team crashes out on the bus. Well, everyone except Logan, who's kept awake by a violent thunderstorm raging outside the bus. Finn's the only one on the team who knows he's afraid of storms, but he's asleep too far away to nudge awake, and even if he was closer Logan is too humiliated to wake him. He resolves to silently freak out on his own until Leo proves that maybe Logan can trust him more than he thought.This is listed under Harry Potter fandom because it is based on characters by Lumosinlove in their wolfstar hockey au fics Sweater Weather and Coast to Coast. But these characters are OCs of Lumosinlove's that are not HP characters, because Sweater Weather has evolved into its own fandom and really deserves its own tag lol. Just to clear up any confusion.Read Sweater Weather here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20750912/chapters/49305518Read Coast to Coast here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150220/chapters/58152592
Relationships: Logan Tremblay/Leo Knut
Series: Coast-to-Coast inspired fics (character credit Lumosinlove) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2089896
Comments: 10
Kudos: 124





	Alone in the Storm

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Coast To Coast](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24150220) by [lumosinlove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumosinlove/pseuds/lumosinlove). 



Logan hunches further down into his seat in the dark, chewing at the chapped spot on his bottom lip.

The bus is quiet. Or it would be, if not for the roar of rain lashing sideways across the windows.

They’d put away a neat 4-1 win against Philly. He should be happy.

And he was. But they all came down from that high hours ago, only halfway through a seven-hour drive to Pittsburgh, the rest of the guys crashed out in their seats. He can just make out Evgeni and Talker’s chortled snores over the rain.

Lightning tears the sky out his window, followed maybe three seconds later by a growling thunderclap that shakes the bus. He presses back hard into his seat, hating himself for the way his heart pulses in his throat.

Because really. He’s a grown man. Of all the stupid childhood fears to never grow out of—he might as well be afraid of the dark.

Another sheet of lightning flashes white through the bus before plunging back to near darkness.

_Un…deux..._

BOOM.

They’re safe in the bus. He repeats it to himself like a mantra.

They’re safe in the bus. _Unless they run off the road in this blinding rain_.

Flash.

_Un…_

CRACK.

He squeezes his eyes shut and hugs a knee up to his chest. He wishes Finn were here.

Which is stupid. Finn _is_ here. Three seats in front of him, leaning on Blizzard (and definitely asleep—he always crashes hard after games.) And even _if_ Logan were willing to go wake him up like he did once back in college (which he’s _not_ ), he’d have to wake Knutty up too climbing over him to get to the aisle. And there’s no way in hell he’s explaining to the nine feet tall, always cool-as-a-cucumber (and, okay, extremely not-unattractive) rookie that he has to go bug his best friend because he’s afraid of a fucking thunderstorm.

Another flash and thunderclap explode out the window and he jumps in his seat, his tired muscles clenching tight again. Mon dieu, he just wants to sleep. He could almost cry from how exhausted he is, thumbing the deep bags under his eyes, sore like bruises. Yanking off his snapback, his rakes his fingers back through his hair and shoves it back on. He presses his forehead into his knee, letting the plastic snap band from his hat dig hard into his skin as he exhales.

This is so stupid. He’s twenty-three years old. A starter in the NHL.

He’s about to slam his head back into his seat in frustration when a warm palm on the back of his neck freezes him in place.

***

It was raining a little when Leo nodded off, but nothing like the crackling thunder that jars him awake, so loud he can’t believe the rest of the guys are sleeping through it.

His hips and knees throb from how he’s slouched in his seat. (Buses are _not_ designed for tall people, and his knees always get stiff jammed up into the seat in front of him.) He tries to shift a little without bumping Tremz, which he must not manage with his too-big-for-polite-space body because he hears a sharp, flinching inhale beside him, just barely, over the drumming rain. Logan stirs in his seat, but Leo figures he’s just annoyed and turning in his sleep.

Another flash of lightning rips the sky, and Logan jumps so hard Leo feels his weight thump against the seatback. 

He blinks into the dark, listening. Now that he’s paying attention, Logan doesn’t _sound_ asleep. He’s breathing too hard, like he just hauled himself back over the boards from a long shift.

Maybe the noise woke him up too.

Leo turns a little, but another flash illuminates Logan hugging his knee, eyes squeezed shut, shoulders tight. Coiled in on himself as the bus goes black again.

Leo swallows against a small _something_ , low and thrumming in his chest.

Did he get hurt during the game and not say anything? That would be beyond stupid, and yet he already has a feeling that of anyone on the team, Tremz would be the one to do it. There was that one hit, but it hadn’t looked too bad from the bench. He definitely looks hurt now though, or panicked, or—

A flash and instant crack. Logan sucks a breath through clenched teeth, rocking his forehead a little against his knee. 

And oh.

 _Oh_.

That night, about a month ago.

Logan was over playing Call of Duty with him and Harzy (and eating all the Doritos), and this random late summer storm blew up. Not even that close to their side of town. He only remembers because he’d asked Logan if he left his car windows open. That, and the fact that Logan started acting so weird. Stiff and jumpy and missing easy kills like he was only half paying attention to the game.

No. No way Tremzy’s—

But why not? It’s not like you get to choose the things that scare you. Leo thinks of going up the space needle his first time in Seattle and shudders.

An uneasy tug stirs his gut, that one he gets when he knows someone is hurting. He feels it like a hard check to the boards, the pull to _help_ , somehow, even though he knows that it’s the last thing a guy like Logan probably wants.

Leo licks his lips. He and Tremz have gotten closer rooming together on roadies since the start of the season, but he’s not sure they’re close enough that Logan won’t shrug him off. He’s got a lot of pride, Leo saw that even in training, in his first practices with the Lions over the summer.

Logan sucks in another clenched breath.

It’s probably stupid. Spectacularly so. But Leo can’t stop his hand from reaching out.

***

Logan doesn’t move. He doesn’t think he even breathes. Because that’s Leo’s hand on the back of his neck. Not rubbing or caressing, just resting there, a calloused warm weight, like it might be an accident.

Is he awake? Does he know Logan’s awake? His touch feels too deliberate to have fallen there in his sleep, but maybe—

Thunder shakes the bus and Logan flinches before he can stop himself. Leo doesn’t move, but Logan knows he must have felt it. Humiliation creeps hot up his neck all the way to his ears. Merde, how is he ever going to look Knutty in the eye after this? He squeezes his eyes shut against his knee, fighting off the warm prickling that’s building there. There is no fucking way he’s going to cry right now.

Leo shifts next to him, moving a little closer. Logan can feel the warmth of him where their legs and hips touch, his hand heavier on his neck as his forearm comes to rest down Logan’s spine. Another flash of lightning cracks around them and Logan leans back into the pressure without thinking, drawn in by the illusion of safety in the weight of Leo’s arm.

The bus goes dark again and Logan swallows hard as panic and shame roil through him. He tries to shake it off, sit up like nothing’s wrong.

“Sorry,” he whispers, shaking his head, his voice hoarse and rough. He clears his throat and sniffs hard once. Leo’s arm slides off his back and he immediately misses the pressure. “Sorry if I woke you up, I don’t usually—”

Leo makes a sound in the back of his throat, not quite shushing him, but close.

“It’s okay.”

And Logan knows, can hear it in Leo’s low, earnest voice that he doesn’t mean _It’s okay you woke me up_ , or even _Everything’s going to be okay_ , but _It’s okay to be scared_.

Leo drapes an arm across his shoulders, hesitant, like he’s not sure he should. And maybe he’s right. Any other day Logan probably would have shoved him off, told him to quit messing around. But here, in the dark bus with the impossible heat of Leo next to him and the storm raging outside Logan doesn’t think. He leans into Leo’s side, curling into him at the next blast of thunder.

Leo firms up his grip around Logan’s shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze. Logan exhales, feeling covered, somehow. Maybe a little bit safe.

Shame tickles the back of his throat and he swallows, closing his eyes into Leo’s shoulder.

“Sorry,” he whispers again because he doesn’t know what else to say.

***

“Stop.” Leo says, letting his cheek rest against the top of Logan’s snapback. Part of him wants to keep repeating it until Logan hears him, _it’s okay it’s okay it’s okay_.

All the guys think Sirius is the one with a million walls up, but Leo would contend that Logan’s right there with him. He doesn’t seem like it at first, the way he jokes around, but Leo can see that same hint of insecurity, like there’s something inside him he’s afraid for them to see.

A flash of lightning, a roll of thunder. Logan tenses under his arm and Leo squeezes him tighter. He may not know Logan’s secrets or be able to take whatever that weight is off his shoulders, but he can help with this.

“You’re okay,” he whispers into the top of Logan’s head, hoping that somehow Logan will hear that he doesn’t just mean now, here, riding out the storm, but that’s he’s always good, always enough no matter what he feels like he has to prove.

Logan nods against his shoulder, and Leo can’t help the warm swell that rises in his chest.

They don’t say anything after that. It takes a while, but eventually the worst of the storm moves off and Logan’s breathing evens out until his head feels heavier on Leo’s shoulder. Leo listens to his long, slow breaths, feeling each exhale as a warm gust against his neck.

He promised himself when he got drafted that he wouldn’t do this. Let himself get attached to any of his teammates as anything more than friends. But god, with Logan soft and warm in his arms, for once letting himself be something besides strong and brave and freaking perfect, how can he not?

If they wake up like this there’s a good chance they’ll get chirped out of their minds. But Logan’s finally asleep, and Leo can feel it already in the pit of his stomach, a fierce knot of protectiveness telling him that he would do anything for this boy. And who knows if Logan will ever let Leo get close to him again like this in the light.

Leo closes his eyes and settles his shoulders back into his seat. Whatever comes in the morning, let it come. He brushes his lips across the top of Logan’s hat. Just barely. Just once. And for now, it’s enough. Because it has to be. 


End file.
